Window Shopping
by 02AngelBaby75
Summary: The story of how The Once-ler and his guitar came to be.


It had been exactly two days since The Once-ler had turned the big thirteen years old. Or thirteen years young, as he liked to put it. The last thing he ever wanted was to grow up, to be old and cranky. Thirteen was still but a baby, as far as he was concerned. He knew the fact he wanted to stay a kid forever greatly ticked off his mother, whom he was constantly trying his hardest to please, but even the most cynical of people had to admit we were all entitled to dream.

The presents he had received were nothing much too special, but The Once-ler was happy. Thirteen was indeed a big deal. He was no longer a teeny bopper, on the brink of the, 'pukism,' and angst that came with being a teenager...Now he was a teenager.

Although still a baby, technically, thirteen still counted for something, meaning The Once-ler had to do something big, something important, something _life-changing _this year. His next big birthday wasn't going to be until three years later, when he was sixteen, and that seemed like a forever and a half away. Epicness had to happen, and it had to happen soon.

It was the last Monday of the school year, and Oncie could not have been in a brighter mood. This summer looked like it was going to be a beautiful one, filled with sunshine and ice cream.

He walked with his guitar on his back, his good old faithful gal who was, sadly, falling apart as we speak. She'd been around for as long as The Once-ler could remember, as old as time itself. She was a pretty regular-looking guitar, a light brown color that mainly reminded people of a milk chocolaty chocolate bar of some kind. It made them hungry, he had heard, so The Once-ler would then strum away to the song, _Sandwiches_.  
><em><br>Sandwiches are beautiful,  
>Sandwiches are fine.<br>I like sandwiches, I eat them all the time;  
>I eat them for my supper and I eat them for my lunch;<br>If I had a hundred sandwiches, I'd eat them all at once._

Which of course made people very hungry. Thus the money dropped into his upturned hat in front of him dwindled, and the sandwich shops prospered.

So, as were were saying, Oncie was strutting off to the first day of the last week of the school year, when he came across something so amazing, so beautifully remarkable, that he stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw nearly touching the sidewalk.

There, across the street behind glass, sat the most spectacular, most gorgeous, most expensive-looking guitar he had ever seen.

Within seconds The Once-ler was rushing like a madman across the street, obviously scaring some drivers and earning a few angry honks of horns, but he couldn't hear them in the slightest. Oh, was it ever beautiful and shiny-

_BAM!_

He quite literally bounced off the window and landed his butt very uncomfortably. It was too bad for him that when he summoned the courage to look up, there stood an old lady, whom he was certain had seen the entire incident.

Oncie gaped up at the silver-haired woman, not believing his bad luck. However, being an optimist, he thought that at one time, he was a flabby piece of baby fat that smelled like powder rolling around on the linoleum. So running into a glass window wasn't so bad, because in the past he couldn't walk at all.

It was fine...

...As long as nobody seen.

But there stood that lady, an eyebrow raised and a sarcastic smirk fixed on her face. She tilted her head sideways, and smiled.

The Once-ler swallowed, determined not to show how embarrassed he truly was. The blood was rushing to his cheeks already, bringing out his freckles even more, he knew it. He was like a girl in that sense, blushing like a tomato at such mundane matters.

He slowly rose to his feet, looking around to see if anyone else was around to witness the humiliation. One spectator was bad enough, after all.

The lady held her hand out. It was old and wrinkly, like newspaper. The Once-ler took it in his and gently shook. "Are you alright there, young man?" she asked in a kinder voice than he had anticipated.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine, just, my butt kinda hurts…"

"You were looking at this one, weren't you?" she gestured to the glistening black and white Fender Stratocaster.

"I was."

"It's a beauty, that one."

"I know," Oncie replied sadly, reaching into his pockets. "But all I have is four dollars and pocket lint." He held this in his hand and pathetically offered it to the lady, whom laughed very loudly.

"Cute. That's cute. I'll tell you what: Come back after school today, and maybe you can help me around the shop for a month or so, and then we'll talk." She gestured to the guitar and raised her eyebrows again.

Instantly, The Once-ler's face brightened. Possibly there was hope for him yet. Maybe this would be _the life-changing_ moment that was supposed to take place any day now. "That's okay!" he said, and rushed past the woman, hoping to end up in the store, but rather, he ran straight into the glass door which he had honestly believed was left_ open_…

Curse his lanky teenage awkwardness! Luckily, this time around he hadn't the same momentum built up, meaning that it hurt him much less than the first time. The lady howled and patted Oncie's shoulder. "Come back after school," she repeated, and this time The Once-ler smiled genuinely in return.

* * *

><p><em>~One Month and Two Days Later...Which is Thirty-Two Days~<em>

The lady's name was Iris, she was between sixty and seventy years old, she loved Rocky Road ice cream, she hated cleaning, and she was a wonderful piano player. In fact, that's all she would do the entire day, eat ice cream and play old songs, while The Once-ler was left to do the cleaning, which involved dusting shelves, polishing the instruments, and vacuuming. (He despised admitting it, but no matter what, the sound of the vacuum cleaner always frightened him.)

He spent most of his free time working, which he didn't mind doing very much. New guitars came in almost every day, it appeared, but none of them stole his heart like _that one_ did.

He had been an official teenager for just over a month, and he continued to wait for his big moment, and as he busied himself polishing a trumpet, he hoped very much it would come soon.

Suddenly he felt a hand on top of his head, Iris, no doubt. "Yes?" he asked crankily.

"Oh, someone's grumpy," Iris muttered. "Grumpy Pants. I'd be happy if I were you."

"And why is that?" Oncie wondered as he finished off the trumpet and mindfully placed it into its case. He turned around to look at her, and to his utter shock, his future guitar was in her hands. "What-what-" he sputtered.

"For you," she said, smiling wide, crinkling the skin around her eyes. "You've earned it, mister."

"I can't-I don't, what?" Oncie scratched his head, messing up his already untidy, mop-like hair. This time felt like it would never come, yet here he was. Inside he felt numb, but not in a bad way.

Slowly, The Once-ler reached out and took the guitar's neck. It almost felt like a sin, touching something so amazing. "She's yours," Iris smiled.

Still, he was unable to find the words for what he was feeling. Immediately following the almost guilt-like sensation, was a sense of incredible happiness, like something empty in his life had been fulfilled. This was the big moment he had been yearning for, to know that he was loved.

"Come on," Iris said, throwing her arm across his shoulders. "Let's go get some ice cream and celebrate."

* * *

><p><em>I wasn't sure what type of guitar he actually has, so I just chose my favorite ^^ If anyone knows, please tell me ^^<em>


End file.
